


Distractions

by sunflowerseedsandscience



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Birthday, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerseedsandscience/pseuds/sunflowerseedsandscience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's glad today- even more than normal- to be waking up here, with Mulder.  The phone in her DC apartment will not ring today.  There will be no knock on her door, no brunch at an upscale neighborhood restaurant that Scully will try to pay for, and Maggie will insist on not letting her because "Who ever heard of paying for your own birthday meal?"</p><p>She will never sit down to a birthday brunch- or any other meal- with her mother ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

She wakes to a world of sensations, flooding through her core and radiating out to her every extremity. There is a hand covering her hipbone there, the scratchy tickle of stubble along her inner thighs there, and in between, gentle but purposeful circling around her clit, an inquisitive swipe of tongue below, questing fingers reaching deep into her.

She does not open her eyes, does not move, does not give any sign at all that she is awake. She lies perfectly still and loses herself in the ecstasy of his focused attentions. He doesn't often wake her up this way: it would require him to be up before her, and while at one time that wouldn't have been out of the ordinary, years of early mornings at the hospital have destroyed her ability to sleep in.

Scully knows why he's doing this today, of course- why he's making a special effort to ease her into the day gently, sweetly. She appreciates it more than she can tell him... verbally, anyway. 

Mulder changes the angle of his hand, flipping it palm-up, and the new rush of sensation is too much for her to keep still any longer. She gasps and squirms, giving the ruse away even though she still does not open her eyes, and she feels him smiling against her. The sensations intensify as he works at her more vigorously, and soon, she is shaking violently and moaning her release as the tide washes over her.

Mulder covers her with the quilt as he withdraws from her, crawling up the bed to lie beside her. She rolls to face him, and now she does open her eyes, finding his face inches from her own. He looks exceptionally pleased with himself. Over his shoulder, through the bedroom window, she can see the sun rising red on the horizon. It's a sight she's seeing more and more these days; the once-occasional nights she began spending here when they started working at the FBI again lengthening into weeks. She still has her DC apartment, but lately it seems she's only keeping it for nights when they're too tired after working late to drive all the way out to the house.

It's only a matter of time, really. The lease will be up soon.

"Good morning, birthday girl," Mulder whispers now, sliding an arm around her back and pulling her to him. He drops a line of nibbling kisses along her collarbone. She tilts her head back to give him better access, thrusting her chest towards him, and he takes the hint, traveling further down until he has one pert nipple in his teeth. She gasps, arching her back, and he chuckles, rolling her until he's hovering over her and she can feel his erection straining against her thigh. Before he can move to enter her, she wriggles out from under him, her nipple slipping from his mouth with a pop. His noise of protest turns to a moan of anticipation when she turns her back to him, rising to her knees and taking hold of the headboard.

Mulder enters her from behind in one long, smooth slide, sinking into her until she is flush against his hips. He folds himself over her as he moves, wrapping his arms around her torso and reaching between her legs, determined to bring her along with him even though she's already come. She leans her head back, shaking her head slightly so that her hair waves in his face, and he, understanding exactly what she wants without her having to say it, reaches out and winds a handful into his fingers and gives a sharp tug, pulling her up and away from the headboard, against his chest. She remembers the first time she asked him to do this, the first time she looked back at him over her shoulder and hissed, "Pull my hair," the almost-comical look of shock and arousal on his face.

Now, after over fifteen years of being lovers, he's well-acquainted with her kinks, and the tension on her red-gold mane is the perfect knife's edge balance between pleasure and pain. She moans and pushes back against him, meeting his thrusts, and he speeds up, setting a near-frantic pace that loses all semblance of rhythm in minutes. In that space of time Scully comes again, crying out and reaching up behind her to put her arm around Mulder's neck, pulling his face down towards her. He bellows into her shoulder a moment later as he climaxes, biting at her neck and shuddering as he empties himself into her.

Awareness has returned by the time they're breathing normally again.

She's glad today- even more than normal- to be waking up here, with Mulder. The phone in her DC apartment will not ring today. There will be no knock on her door, no brunch at an upscale neighborhood restaurant that Scully will try to pay for, and Maggie will insist on not letting her because "Who ever heard of paying for your own birthday meal?"

She will never sit down to a birthday brunch- or any other meal- with her mother ever again.

Scully gazes at Mulder, lying peacefully in her arms, his eyes closed. He has been where she is now... but not exactly. On his first birthday after his mother's death, he was being tortured in a spaceship, and she doubts very much he was even aware of the day at the time. On his second birthday as an orphan, he was on the run, in hiding, and she knows it's a time he doesn't like to think about.

On his birthday the following year, she gave him a Hostess cupcake from a rest stop vending machine in Colorado and a blowjob at the nearby scenic overlook. They didn't talk about it at all, but they didn't really talk about anything those days, not if they could help it.

And it's not as though Mulder's mother had ever been terribly diligent about remembering Mulder's birthday anyway. Not like Maggie, who had always called first thing in the morning, taken her daughter to brunch, and had presented her with a well-chosen, perfectly-wrapped gift. She had always thoughtfully left Scully to her own devices for dinner. "So you can spend it with your girlfriends," she'd claimed.

Within two years of being assigned on the X-Files, there were no more girlfriends to spend it with... but in the years following her cancer, Mulder had taken it over, and birthday dinners had belonged to him from then on.

Now, Mulder is responsible for the whole day. Her parents are gone, Melissa is gone, there will likely be no phone call from Charlie (who's doing God knows what in London, last Scully heard; he didn't bother to show for the funeral), and she hopes very hard that there will be no phone call from Bill, because the kinds of conversations they've had lately are not the kind of thing she wants to deal with today. 

So here they lie, a pair of middle-aged orphans, and that should be normal and ordinary, because that's the natural order of things, but somehow it isn't, and Scully feels the tears threatening to overwhelm her. Mulder feels her tense up and gives her a squeeze, then jumps out of bed and pads to his dresser, naked. From the top drawer he retrieves a small, flat package, wrapped with a bow, and returns to Scully's side, presenting it to her.

Apparently "distraction" is the word of the day.

"It's not much," he says. "But go ahead and open it now, and then we can get ready and head to the city." He looks nervous. "If you want."

"What for?" asks Scully.

"I, uh..." Mulder swallows. "I made reservations for brunch." Scully's eyes well up again, and Mulder begins to panic. "I mean, I know brunch was always your mom's thing, but I thought maybe you'd still want to go. I can cancel the reservations, if you want. It's no problem."

"What about dinner?" Scully asks. Mulder looks sheepish.

"Well... I kinda made reservations for dinner, too," he says. "We can do both, if you want, or just one, or neither. Your day, your choice." Scully chuckles weakly.

"Sounds like you're just trying to get out of having to cook anything today," she says. Mulder grins.

"I thought maybe in between we could walk the Mall, or go to the Smithsonian or the National Gallery," he suggests. "Make a whole day of it." 

Keep busy. That's what he's saying. He knows her, he knows she deals with things by keeping occupied. She dealt with the deaths of both of her parents by pouring herself into her work, but today is Saturday and they don't even have a case out of town. So he'll take her out, keep her on her feet from sunup until sundown, stuff her full of good food, and do whatever it takes to keep her mind off of her mother's absence.

"I think that sounds great," she says finally, and Mulder beams, pleased with himself.

"Open your present," he says, nodding at the little package in her lap. She rips off the paper and opens the box to reveal....

An Apollo Eleven keychain. An exact duplicate of the one he gave her almost twenty years ago. She raises an eyebrow at him.

"It's not the same one, of course," he says. "But I thought... with us being partners again now...." He shrugs. "It seemed appropriate. I can take it back if you don't-" She cuts him off by leaning over and kissing him.

"I love it," Scully says, and Mulder beams. "And I promise I won't re-gift this one." She glances over at the clock. "What time is our brunch reservation?"

"Eleven," he says. "We've got some time before we need to leave."

"Good," says Scully, pushing Mulder back down to lie on the bed. "Because I'd like to open my first present again."


End file.
